The Person I'm Next To Has An Odd Bruise

I'm next to a young woman. She has on a dark grey cardigan, with blue trim lining the pockets and the collar. Under this she has a yellow shirt and below this jean shorts, the shorts go down maybe a quarter of her thigh. Its a respectable summer outfit. It does expose a bruise on the back of her thigh. This bruise intrigues me.
It is large and purple, and in reality is made up of several smaller bruises. 5 of them, all oval and all about 2 inches at their widest. They are in a peculiar pattern. Four in an diagonal line, ascending from the outside to the inside. The last is vertically alligned with the highest, but lower by three or four inches. It looks like a giant poked her hard and fast with all of his fingers at once. But what really happened?
I keep trying to look, discretely. Did she fall of her bike? Does she ride a bike? She looks fit, but maybe not bike fit. Was it was a drunk stumble? Is it from sex? If it is maybe she thinks she should be embarrassed, but is secretly proud of it, like a teenager with a hickey. If it was from something terrible and scaring she would cover it up, or maybe not. I'm staring at the bruise, just waiting for it to make sense. Then she catches me staring at her. There isn't a polite facial expression to explain what I was doing.
I wish there was a smile or a nod that conveyed, I was just looking at a part of you that is commonly sexualized, but I wasn't checking you out. I'm just brainstorming about your private bruise life. So you know, I'm a different type of creep from the one you think I am. But there isn't a smile or a nod that says this.
She seems fairly annoyed.

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